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seeingivy · 5 months

Text

the new romantics

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: la la la. good old usual clown angst show UNTIL it isn't.

an: happy thanksgiving! I recommend relishing on all the words in this one, this chapters a big one! <3

previous part linked here

Three days later, Levi walks into your room (Colt’s room) with a box tucked under his arm. You’re caught off guard by his presence, as he sits flat on the ground next to you.

In the four days following your meltdown, you were lucky enough that the scenes they were filming had nothing to do with you. And that Colt and Porco - who might be your new favorite person - were more than willing to bring you food so you wouldn’t have to leave the safe confines of their room (that you were ambushing).

“Hi kid.”

“Hi Levi.” you respond, hiking your knees to your chest and crossing your ankles over each other.

Levi’s quietly sitting at your side, and by the look on his face, you can tell that he’s simmering. There’s something on the tip of his tongue, that he won’t quite say.

That was always the thing with Levi. While you were easily able to discern what he was feeling, a skill that took practice throughout years, you could never quite figure out why. Why he was sitting here in your room with you, why the two of you were arguing, why he’s got this dusty box placed in between you.

You give him a strange look, before he opens up his little box. It’s filled with different cassettes, pictures, and letters - ones you had sent to Levi over the past few years.

You swallow hard, leaning against the back of the bed, as you flip the little leaflet in your fingers. Two little golden envelopes, with your name in big italic letters printed on it.

Best Actress in a Leading Role

Y/N L/N - Attack on Titan

“Didn’t realize you kept this.” you murmur.

“You were just so excited. All over the place that you forgot to take it. Figured you’d want it someday.” Levi murmurs.

You flip the second one over, mouth dry when you read it.

Triple Threat Commendation - Y/N L/N

“Why are you giving this to me?” you ask.

Levi looks over, steely gray eyes peering into yours.

“I want you to think about why you’re here.” Levi states.

You swallow hard, the tone in his voice biting.

“You were here before, for this. And now I need you to sit there and think really hard about why you’re here right now.”

You lean back, against the back of the bed, as you flip the little leaflet in your hand. And run your fingers over your italicized name, a sight that you had been waiting to see for years. Quite literally, the only thing you wanted.

“I don’t know, Levi. I don’t know why I’m here.” you respond.

It’s embarrassing. So embarrassing, that you’re crying straight onto the envelope, smudging the paper, as it courses through you.

That you don’t know what you’re doing, that you hate it here, and that really everyone else must hate that you’re here too.

“I’ll ask you again, Y/N. Really think about it.” Levi murmurs..

You look over at him, at his eyes fixed so neatly on the picture in his hands, one of the ones he plucked from the box. You scoot closer to him, only to catch that it’s a picture of him, Marco, and Eren, smiling right into the camera.

“Levi-” you start.

“I’m not trying to punish you. I just need you to think about it. It’ll make things easier for you too.” Levi states.

“I know you’re not trying to punish me, Levi.” you murmur, embarrassed that you had even said that to him in the first place.

Levi smiles, placing his hands over your closed ones and squeezing.

“I know. You’ve just got a shitty attitude problem.” he states.

“I get it from my dad.” you respond, nudging him in the shoulder and smiling.

Levi stands up, leaving the box and its content on the floor next to you. He shoots you a smile, one that you relish in, as he reaches for the door. Except he stops halfway on his way out and murmurs something that ignites the warmth in your chest.

“Y/N.”

“Yes, Levi?”

“I am not your father.” he responds, before shutting the door on his way out.

You’re staring at the door of the set, the tiny pebbles crunching under your shoes, as you nervously teeter on your heels. You can hear everyone in there, the cameras moving around in the air, Levi’s voice animated and louder than everyone else’s, and the pounding footsteps of the crew marching in unison.

“You okay?”

You turn your head over your shoulder to find Eren standing next to you, his script and notebook tucked under his arm.

“Oh. Hi Eren. Yeah, I-I was just taking a second I guess.” you murmur.

The thought of having a repeat of the other day, of being so overcome with that feeling that you could barely even function, scares you. And the possibility of it happening, it’s so probable that it makes your stomach hurt.

And it pokes at those deep fears that you had. About coming back, about doing this again. Because you’re filming Sasha’s death scene and…and you need to give a performance. A real one. And if you can’t do this, if you aren’t up to the par of your standards, you’re just…

Setting yourself up for that criticism. The ones that echo in the farthest corners of your brain, whispering into your skin and making you doubt every little move you make. You’ll get a shitty review from The Elms, while everyone else gets glowing ones. You’ll be the lackluster lead while everyone shines, before everyone once and for all, forgets you.

If they even remember who you are in the first place.

“We aren’t filming Sasha’s death scene today.”

You turn your head, eyes wide at Eren, as you beckon for him to explain. Because you were sure, almost positive, that this was the day you were going to do this. And you spent all night, trying to visualize it, how it would feel to have her staring at you lifelessly, in efforts to make the scene more palatable, the entire thing easier.

You barely lasted ten minutes before it all went crashing down.

“I requested that Levi switch the schedule. I just don’t think we’re ready to film that scene yet.”

The wave of relief takes over you in full flesh, that block of feeling in your throat suddenly clearing, as you take the deepest, crispest breath of fresh air in. And the new set of problems come rushing in.

You’re an actress. You can face anything, and-and the fact that they had to change the entire filming schedule for you just proves it. That you’re unprofessional. That you aren’t meant to be here, that this isn’t a place that you should be when you’re all but a fraud next to everyone else.

“I-I could have done the scene, Eren.” you murmur, not even giving yourself the full conviction to prove you believed what you were saying.

Eren gives you a soft smile, before responding.

“I’m sure you could have. You were always stronger than me in that sense. But, I-I really don’t think I could stomach it today. I’ve been anxious since we watched them.”

You pale, the embarrassment coursing through you. At the fact that you let Eren comfort you yesterday, till you could at least stand on your feet, just for him to be suffering in his own silence.

You reach for his elbow, squeezing hard on his skin.

“Eren. You could have told me.” you murmur, burrowing your eyes into his green ones.

“You shouldn’t worry about me, Y/N.” Eren states, making the motions for you to walk into the set.

The two of you walk in tandem, your footsteps lining up with one another's, as you walk into the chaos of the set. You and Eren get a few hello’s, which you happily return before walking up to the board and taking note of the scene lined up.

The table scene.

At that point, you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist, as you look down to find Gabi looking up at you, with a bright smile on her face. You return it in full, resting your face against her cheek, as you smile.

“Hi Gabs. How are you?” you ask.

“I’m great! I love your new haircut.” she states.

You absentmindedly reach up to tuck your hair behind your ears, a slight shade lighter and the smallest bit shorter. Levi was increasingly serious on the fact that you were all getting makeovers for the season and you were no exception to the rule.

“Thank you, sweet girl.” you respond, pinching the skin on her cheek.

“Hi Hobo. How are you?” Gabi asks, turning her head to Eren.

Eren rolls his eyes, reaching forward to flick Gabi’s forehead, followed by her swatting him off in protest. Which is only followed by Eren making moves to tickle her and Gabi getting ready to attack him, as the two of them start laughing and moving around each other. The sentiment of it makes you smile, that Eren’s the same as he was before.

Always popular with the kids.

Hange walks up, slinging an arm around your shoulder, and squeezing as they call for Gabi and Eren to stop.

“Hey. Are you two ready?” Hange asks.

“Yeah. We’ll head over right now. Thanks Hange.” Eren states.

You watch Hange link their arm in with Eren’s as the two of them walk straight onto the set and settle into the chair. And you can tell that Hange’s teasing Eren about something, because they’re both lightly shoving each other and smiling.

You swallow hard, as you take your seat at the table across from Eren. He’s nervously shaking his leg, as he flips through his script and cracks all the knuckles on his fingers. It’s the first scene you’re filming after coming back, the anxiousness pooling in your stomach under the lights.

“Eren?”

“Hm?”

“Do you still make notes in your script?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to switch? Like we used to before?”

Eren nods, sliding his set of pages over, as you hand him yours and start pacing through his notes. They’re largely incoherent, the meaning entirely lost to you, as Eren quickly realizes and looks over.

“Sorry. They’re not scene specific, they’re kind of…mental reminders for me. I didn’t realize we were still going to do this, but I-I’ll make sure I have good notes for the rest of the scenes.” Eren says.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“No, no. It’s what makes us the best, right?”

You give him a polite smile, as you read through Eren’s lines. They’re all highlighted in light green, with the tiniest bit of ramblings scribbled on the side. Silent reminders, he’s giving himself.

To breathe.

“Are you ready?” Levi asks, hands firm behind his back.

“Yeah.” you and Eren respond.

“Eren, go get Armin then.”

Eren nods, standing up from his chair, leaving you and Levi under the bright lights. He pulls the empty chair, leaning back and crossing his arms across his chest as he glares at you.

“Are you actually ready to film this scene?” Levi asks.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” you ask.

Levi rolls his eyes, leaning forward on his forearms, as he brings his face closer to yours and whispers.

“There is nothing wrong with admitting you’re not ready for this yet. This isn’t a particularly easy scene to film, especially for you, and I don’t want-”

“I’m fine, Levi.” you respond.

You can tell from the look on Levi’s face that he doesn’t quite believe you, disapproving of your response, before he stalks off and starts setting the cameras into place. Armin and Eren walk up, followed by Gabi, as you each take your respective seats in the chairs.

Levi’s still stuck adjusting the cameras and the lights, which leaves the four of you awkwardly simmering in your seats. You shoot Gabi a smile, which she returns, before you tuck Eren’s script under the table and Eren does the same with yours.

“Eren.” Armin states.

“Hm?”

“I heard you’ve been writing some of the scenes with Levi and Hange now.” Armin states.

“Really? That’s so cool, Eren!” Gabi states, reaching forward to squeeze his tightly shut fists.

“Yeah. Thanks Gabs.” Eren responds.

“This one must have been real easy for you to write, huh?” Armin asks, all but glaring at him.

Eren sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, as he swallows hard and shuts his eyes.

“Save it for the scene, Armin.” Eren murmurs, nervously cracking all of the fingers in his bones, as he nervously looks over his shoulder and waits for Levi to finish.

It’s the smallest bit of solace you suppose. That you’re not the only sore thumb here. That Eren too has people who can’t stand to talk to him.

“Okay, Eren. On your count.” Levi states, giving the four of you a thumbs up.

You all shift in your seats, adjusting your hands on the table, as Eren all gives you a meek nod before starting.

“The things I do and choices I make are all decided by my own free will.”

Eren’s dropped his voice an octave, the tone in his voice more gravelly and hoarse as he speaks. And it immediately reminds you of that shitty argument the two of you had in the moonlight outside of the house in Seattle.

So that’s what Armin meant.

You can immediately feel your throat drying, rough as sandpaper as you’re suddenly too aware of the lights shining onto your skin above. The warmth of them singeing the ends of your skin.

“So your actions after meeting Yelena were all you?” Armin asks.

“Yes.” Eren responds.

“No. You’re being manipulated.” you respond.

You look up to find Eren looking at you, the emotion in his eyes so devoid, so far away that it makes your skin sweat. That it makes you deeply uncomfortable, like you’re talking to a version of him that’s somewhere else entirely.

“You-you wouldn’t get kids and innocents involved, even if they were enemies! Plus, I know you care about us more than anyone.”

You swallow hard, the words burning on your tongue.

“Don’t you? The reason you saved me in that cabin…the reason you gave me this scarf is because you’re kind, Eren.”

“I said keep your hands on the table.” Eren states, his voice so unrelenting that it sends tears sprouting down your eyes.

An entire five lines early. You fight down the urge to vomit, that disgusting acidic feeling accumulating in your mouth, as Eren continues, the gravel of his voice making the hair on your arms stand up.

You ball up your fists, as you mutter out your lines - knowing damn well they weren’t loud enough or with half of the fevor Levi wanted - as you reach the part you were dreading the most. The mere anxiety of it, of Eren’s grating voice saying those words, has you breaking skin on your palms, as you look up at his green eyes.

“Your family was made to forget who they are and live only to protect. In other words, slaves.”

“Enough, Eren!” Armin screams, slamming one of his fists on the table.

“Do you know who I hate more than anyone? Those who aren’t free. Just like livestock.” Eren states, the tears warm and burning as they start flowing down your cheeks, with no means of stopping this time.

“Eren!” Armin screams, again.

“Just seeing you has pissed me off, and now I finally know why. I can’t stand the sight of a slave who obeys orders without a question.”

You take a deep breath in, holding it in your chest.

“Ever since I was little, I’ve hated you, Y/N.” Eren states, the tone in his voice definitive.

Armin, right on cue, climbs on to the table and screams.

“How could you say that to her, Eren?”

And you miss your cue, to get up and tackle Armin onto the table, because Eren’s suddenly crying, his hands balled into fists as he stands up.

“I didn’t fucking mean it!” Eren screams.

You look over at Gabi and then Armin, as Eren quickly realizes what he’s said. And then he all but storms out of the set, almost like he’s embarrassed, as Levi calls for a fifteen minute break and Hange rushes out after him.

You and Armin share a weary look, as you help Armin off the table, and feel a tugging on your sleeve. You’re entirely thrown off by the outburst, his words hanging in your ears, as you readjust the table cloth on the table with shaky hands.

“Is Eren okay?” Gabi asks, a fixed frown on her face.

“He is. I’m going to go check on him, okay?” you state, giving her a pinch on the cheek before you stand up and make your way out to the set.

The pebbles are crunching loudly under your feet, as you pace around and look for Eren and Hange. Only to find them slightly to the left, Eren hanging with his head in his knees as Hange rubs circles into his back.

You swallow hard, before you walk up and clear your throat. Eren looks up, eyes teary and red, as he stares at you in disbelief.

“Hange. Can I talk to Eren?” you murmur.

Hange looks over at Eren, before giving you a smile and standing up.

“He’s all yours. Shout for me if you need me, yeah?”

You give Hange a nod and they lovingly ruffle Eren’s hair, before walking off. You take the seat next to him, sitting flat on your hands. He’s still crying, the tears falling straight into his hands as he hiccups.

“Eren.”

He clenches his eyes shut at the sound of your voice, almost like he’s wincing at your presence, as he starts shaking his head.

“Go away,” he murmurs.

You swallow hard, swallowing the nervousness in your throat.

“No.”

“What are you doing here? Like seriously, just-”

“You would do it for me.”

He looks up, his green eyes staring at yours in his confusion. His tears have momentarily stopped, the wetness spread all over his cheeks and his hands.

“You would do it for me. You did it the other day and at the funeral and I just- I owe it to you. You’re there for me and…”

“You think you owe me something? Do you even hear yourself?” Eren asks, tone biting.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Of course he thinks it’s okay for him to comfort you, but not for you to comfort him. You wrack your brain, trying to think of the best way to word this - or the best way to get him to listen to you - when it hits you.

You should take a page from his book.

“You’re not you and I’m not me.” you state.

“Huh?”

“You’re Bruce and I’m Margaret. Now talk.”

Eren scoffs, wiping the back of his hands on his cheeks, as he coughs.

“Y/N. Don’t be stupid.”

“Who?”

Eren stares at you, green eyes peering into yours, as he sighs.

“Are you going to let this go?”

“No.” you respond.

Eren sighs, leaning back on the heels of his hands as he looks up at the sky.

“I just had a long day. And I don’t really like this scene.” he states, leaning back into the grass.

You follow suit, the blades of grass tickling your skin, as you both look up at the cloudy sky.

“Sometimes, I can tell that the anxiety is like…bubbling. It’s not enough to make me freak out, but enough for me to notice it’s there. Like I’m hypervigilant, just-just waiting for it to come out.” Eren states.

You beckon for him to continue.

“Like I wake up late. It throws off how I get ready for the day and then I’m at set. I say the wrong things to everyone, say something weird or awkward, and then when I’m filming I know I’m not doing it right. That it’s all wrong and I try to take breaths, try to fix it, but that deep seated wrongness just doesn’t go away.” he responds.

“Does anything help?” you ask, looking over at him.

“Connie. He’s always good about this kind of stuff. He-he knows the right thing to say. And Hange’s comforting to be around.”

You wrap your hand around his wrist, sliding your hand down until your fingers are locked together. Your skin is burning from the touch, as you feel Eren’s hand tighten and his eyes shift over to you.

“What are you doing?” he whispers.

“I don’t know. It just felt right.” you whisper back.

Eren’s fidgeting with your hands, before he’s cracking every last knuckle on your hand. A nervous tick he’s had since you two were younger.

“Don’t crack the smaller ones.”

“I remember. You don’t like how those feel.” he responds, voice soft.

You hum in response as you absentmindedly give Eren your other hand, as he fidgets with every last knuckle of yours, waiting till he hears that satisfying pop before he stops. And then he’s holding both of your hands in his, his breaths calm and even, as he runs his hands over both of your knuckles.

And you both stay there, you completely dry of any words that could help him and Eren - the look on his face blank as he stares up at the sky. Eren was always better at this type of stuff than you and that much is apparent still.

“Thank you, Margaret.”

“You’re welcome, Bruce.”

And when you and Eren stand up - him brushing the smallest blades of grass out of your hair and you wiping the last of the wetness off your cheek - you curse yourself.

For falling back into it so easily with him. And for wanting to let yourself fall the entire way.

You cry almost the entire night.

You tend to avoid them when they all congregate in big groups. You’re not sure what it is exactly - maybe the fact that you've been living like a hermit crab for a better part of the past few months - but whenever you find yourself with them, it’s too awkward for you to stomach.

Except for a few situations, like this one, where you find that you have to be there.

“Y/N! Come here!” Jean screams.

You peek your head out of the little doorway, to find them all sitting around in a circle in the living room. There’s an obscene amount of flowers covering every square inch of the living room, a sweet smell in the air.

“Hi Jean. I was just going to go to bed.”

“And now you’re not!” Connie replies, giving you a smile which you can’t help but ignore.

You frown, as you feel someone join you at your side. And you look to your left only to consequently back straight into the wall behind you and hit your head.

“Jesus fuck, Eren. You scared the shit out of me.” you pant, rubbing the tiniest little spot on the back of your head.

He reaches forward, hands secured around his head, as you look up at him. And swallow hard.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Oh my god, Eren. What’s on your face?”

“Huh?”

You reach forward, fingers on his chin as you move his face to the left and to the right.

“Are you trying to grow a beard, Eren?” you state, disgusted.

Eren rolls his eyes, before swatting your hand off, and settling in next to Connie.

“I told you Y/N wouldn’t like Hobo Eren.” Gabi states.

“Well, I could have told you that. Y/N’s never really been into facial hair.” Eren states.

“You can barely even grow any, Eren.” you deadpan.

“Who wouldn’t like Hobo Eren? Look at him! He’s just so dreamy.” Reiner states, shaking Eren’s entire frame in his hands as Eren smiles.

“Yeah, he smells a little. But he’s got that….wet dog charm to him.” Connie states, smiling brightly.

You snort, as you settle in between Porco and Colt, the two of them shooting you polite smiles.

“I just got a bit…scared, that’s all.” you respond.

“I think Jean has the best look.” Mikasa states, twisting one of the sets of bouquets in her fingers.

“You’re like literally biased. He’s your fiance.” Porco states.

“It’s very hard to pull off a mullet.” Mikasa states, glaring at him.

“Who do you think has the best new look, Y/N?” Gabi asks, tugging on the ends of your ankles. She’s seated right by your feet, directly next to Falco, as they play a very tame game of cards. Falco has yet to acknowledge you, since the day you first got back, and you have yet to try either.

“Probably, Reiner. I couldn’t even recognize him.”

“Not seeing me for two years will do that to you.” Reiner states, earring a fit of laughter from the group.

You smile, cheeks burning with embarrassment, as the rest of them laugh. They all move along, but you’re stuck on that, as Colt gives you a reassuring smile. But it does little to curb the tears that are collecting in your eyes, the unease that’s coursing through you.

“That’s right! I was wondering what you were doing here.”

You look up to find the girl, seated right by Mikasa, looking straight at you.

“I swear every time I look up there’s like a new cast member I don’t know.”

The group of them laugh, as you bite the soft tissue of your cheeks and look back at her.

“This is Amy. She’s Mikasa’s cousin. She’s going to be the maid of honor at the wedding, which is why she’s here. With this god awful set of flowers.” Sasha states.

“I didn’t realize you would all have such strong opinions about the flowers!” she states.

You look around the sets at the table, with a new eye. And not that you’re biased (because you totally are), but the flowers really are…awful. A bit too gaudy, too artificial for people like Jean and Mikasa. You ease off of the couch, as you twist the vases in your hand.

“Do you guys mind?” you ask, looking up at Jean and Mikasa.

They both shake their heads, as you start sifting through each of the vases. You pick out the flowers that make the most sense to you, as Connie makes it a point to make fun of Porco’s British accent for the next twenty minutes.

When you’re done - a mix of violets, daisies, and baby breath - you snag the ribbon off the little box they came in and tie it around the stems. And then hand it to Mikasa, who's running her fingers over the petals.

“It’s daisies and violets. Those are both of your birth flowers and the baby’s breath just kind of brings it together. The ribbon should definitely be white instead of pink, because it seems too loud when you add a color like that in. And you can easily make boutonnieres out of violets for the groom's party and have the girls wear corsages with daisies on them.” you state.

“I love that idea. Thank you, Y/N.” Mikasa states, handing the flowers to Jean as he twists them in his own fingers. He gives you a big smile, which is enough to curb that sense of unease in your skin.

“That’s what your name is!” Amy states, smacking her hand against her forehead.

And it’s back.

“Yeah, it’s nice to meet you.” you state.

“Wait, didn’t you like…quit acting?” she asks.

You swallow hard.

“Yeah.” you state, laughing awkwardly.

“Oh. So what are you doing here, then?”

You absentmindedly look over at Eren, before pinching your lips together.

“Just back for the final season.” you respond.

“Oh. Was it like a PR type of thing? To build up hype around the show? You celebrities do things like that all the time, right?” she asks.

You can feel the group of them looking at you, steely eyes staring into yours, as you set the last of the flowers down on the table. You knew that this would happen eventually, that you would get berated about what you did in your two years off. That some people wouldn’t understand it, that those whispering rumors of everything you do being fake would come back, but it was too early for this. The tears are warm and hot, the regret even hotter, as you stand up.

“No. It wasn’t. But that’s besides the point. It was um, really nice to meet you and I hate to cut this short and all but I have to wake up early tomorrow, so…”

“Right! I’ll see you at the wedding.” she states, extending her hand to yours as you begrudgingly shake.

And shuffle straight into Colt’s room and cry straight onto his pillow.

It gets easier to place yourself into the pacing on the set. Most of the scenes that Levi’s chosen to film are around Gabi, Falco, and Kaya, and it’s easier to be there and watch them than be in the house with everyone else. And it seems that’s someone’s always lingering around, an open ear to talk to.

“Are you enjoying your time here?” you ask.

“Yeah. It’s a nice environment to be in.” Niccolo responds, giving you a polite smile.

The two of you are playing solitaire, an invitation that he extended to you after you were content scribbling through the ends of your script for Eren.

“Levi and Hange always made it a point. To make it that way.” you murmur.

“I can imagine. Especially for Hange, all the scrutiny that came their way back in the day, it’s…” Niccolo states.

“The funniest part is I didn’t even know any of that had happened when I got here. Mikasa kind of had to tell me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I-I looked up to Hange a lot. Idolized her even. And all I saw was someone who was so…true to themselves. They said whatever they wanted and they came out on top anyways. Turns out, they were suffering almost the entire time. And they wouldn’t have even made it out if it weren’t for Levi.”

“Same could be said for you, no?”

You look up at him, at his brown eyes wide and peering into yours.

“Sasha talks.”

“And what does she say?”

“It doesn’t really mean much and I don’t want to rub salt in wounds or anything or-”

“Being here is a big salt in the wound regardless.” you respond.

Niccolo frowns, the look on his face fixed.

“She said that in the earlier years, people gave you a horrible time. For reasons that were out of your control, like Hange. They hated them because they were queer? Because they supported things that were right but weren’t mainstream? And they hated you just because your family wasn’t famous. Because you were a successful, self-made woman. You didn’t have any of that industry etiquette, when things seemed wrong to you, rightfully so, you called shit on it.”

You roll over the thought in your head.

“What?” Niccolo asks.

“I never really saw it that way.”

“But it’s true isn’t it? Historia all but got groomed by a guy, you didn’t let him get away with it. You had no ins with the industry, but still made it out on top like you did. The Lucky One basically immortalized you as a pop star forever.” Niccolo responds, setting his cards down flat on the floor.

“I guess. It just seems like at the end of the day, it wasn’t even worth it.” you respond.

“Well, you’re talking about it like it’s all over.”

“Huh?”

“Things are far from finished. For you, especially. I have a feeling you’re just getting started.” Niccolo responds.

You and Niccolo look up, to find Gabi and Falco at your sides, fresh off of the set. They’re both crossing their legs and taking their seats next to you as Eren walks up and joins you. He always seems to be here, since he is writing this all with Hange and Eren now, always giving the two of them pointers and leading them the right way.

“Hi guys.” Gabi says.

“Hi Gabs. You did great. You too, Falco.” you respond, reaching forward to ruffle her hair.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Falco responds, giving you a halfhearted smile.

“What are we talking about?” Eren asks.

“Sasha. And how much Niccolo loves her.” you respond, giving him a smug grin.

“Our favorite topic of conversation.” Eren responds, nudging Niccolo in the side, as a pink flush crawls up his neck.

You deal a set of cards to everyone, ignoring your awkwardly shaky hands when you hand Eren his and zone out through the rest of this conversation. Because all you can hear in your head is Niccolo, and Levi asking you what you’re doing here, and every tiny fractal of a memory playing in your head.

And really, it’s almost jarring how different everything is because you can barely bring yourself to get out of your head about everything. Because that god awful, damper of your thoughts brings ruin to everything. You thought you’d have Mikasa and Levi when you’d get here, that they’d walk you through this, only for them to be miles away from you.

You figure you’d fight the urge to throttle Eren every time he looked at you, but his presence seems to be one of the only things that puts you at ease. That he’s quiet, that you’re both not you and that it’s easier that way, that nothing happened.

That eventually, things would work themselves out. You’d all come back here and things would fall back into place again. That Connie would make a joke and you’d all laugh, that Armin would take a few pictures, that you and Eren would just be something again, no matter what it was.

But you sit here, stuck in how none of that is true. That you’re at the end of a bottomless pit. That things are going to stay this way, that this is how they are, that this is what happens when you make the wrong choice.

“Well, the convenience store is closing on Friday, so you better get a move on if you want something, Falco.” Niccolo states, setting his cards down.

“What?” you ask.

“Huh?” Niccolo repeats, looking up at you.

“The convenience store is closing? The one on Scott Street? With….with the slushie machine?” you ask, eyes wide.

“Yeah. The one run by that really old guy, with curly hair.”

You set your cards down, irritation flaming, as you turn to Eren.

“Did you know?” you ask.

“Yeah.” Eren responds, twisting his cards in his fingers.

“And you weren’t going to tell me? Or do anything about it?”

“What could we do about it?” Eren asks.

You roll your eyes, bending the cards as you set them down and storm out of the set. And look for that god awful bike, because god forbid that this is one of the things that changes too. That really everything else can change - that you’re going to hate each other, that the one place you love is going to be different - but god, if you can throw any money at someone to keep that place open, then so be it.

You find the bike in the shed, wheeling it out towards the front door when Eren runs in front of you, grabbing the handles and stopping you in your tracks.

“What are you doing, Y/N? You can’t ride this thing by yourself.”

“Well, watch me.” you respond, trying to wrestle it out of his grasp.

“It’s a tandem bike. You need someone to push the back. And you’ve always been shit at steering.” he responds.

“And you have a shitty personality, Eren. I guess there’s some things we just can’t really control, can we?” you spit, finally wrestling out of his grasp and moving past him.

Eren jogs up to your side, trying to stop you in your tracks again.

“Quit trying to stop me, Eren.”

“I-I’ll come with. Steer for you.” he states, reaching for the handles.

“No. I want to do this on my own.” you respond.

“Well, some things you just can’t.” Eren responds.

“I’m going to the convenience store.” you respond.

“To what? Stop it from closing?”

“Yes. I have money. I’m going to use it. It’s like an investment, basically.”

Eren frowns, stopping at your side again.

“Y/N. Maybe we shouldn’t go.”

And the irritation bubbles right to your head and you’re screaming at him in the middle of the pavement.

“I want to go! I want to make sure this thing stays here, that people get to enjoy it because it’s the only thing I can keep. I can’t get my brother to stop being mad at me, my best friend moved on and picked a new maid of honor, Levi’s ten different levels of disappointment in me, and you…you left me! I know you don’t give a crap about this place, I just want this place that made me happy to stay there.” you shout.

Eren swallows, before climbing onto the head of the bike and bracing his legs against the pedals. You oblige, climbing on and wrapping your arms around his torso as he starts pedaling. And when you reach there, he’s holding his hand out and helping you off, as you walk into the store.

The smell is still entirely the same, but the store is heavily hollowed out. Almost all the shelves are empty, the buzzing of the refrigeration turns off and you turn to find your culprit. The owner of the store, that’s been giving you and Eren free slushies since you were fifteen.

Michael.

“Y/N! Eren! My little movie stars.” he states, opening his arms wide and enveloping you two in his embrace.

You sink into the smell, the soft cherry wafting off of him, as he gives you a bright smile. His hair is significantly longer than when you saw him last, the years he’s lived hanging off of his skin. In wrinkles, in the permanent smile lines by his eyes, and his dimples - large and indented into his skin, as opposed to Eren’s. That really only come out on occasion.

“We’re in a TV show, Michael.” you deadpan.

“Same thing.” he responds, giving you a bright smile.

“Are you really closing your store?” you ask.

He sighs, giving you a smile.

“Yes. I’m sure that much is obvious.” he responds, placing more items into the box.

“Are you bankrupt? You should really stop giving free stuff to every kid who walks in here.” you murmur.

“I’m not bankrupt. It’s just time.” he responds.

You push yourself up on the counter, dangling your feet off the end as you turn to him. You’re toying with the ends of the tape on the counter, peeling it off as you rack your mind on the right thing to stay. To get him to stay here. And that insurmountable loss - that follows you everywhere - reaches this place too and you can’t handle it.

“Do you need money to keep it going? We can hire and staff and-”

“Y/N.” Michael states.

“We’ll invest. Me and Eren, we-we’ll keep it going. Make sure it’s in good hands. It should-” you mumble.

Michael sighs, setting the box down, as he glances over at Eren.

“Always the same, you two.” he states, before walking out of the store.

You give Eren a weary look, as you pad out of the store, to find Michael opening up the door of his car. You run up to his side, fists curled together.

“Where are you going?”

“We are going to the lake. I have something to show you.” he responds.

You angrily march over to the passenger seat and buckle your seatbelt on, only to find Eren standing at your side of the door.

“Well, get in.”

“I’ll stay. Fix up the store for you, yeah?” Eren says.

“Thank goodness. You god awful children know how to waste my time. And my money.” he responds, giving Eren a smile as he pulls out of the parking lot.

You glare at Eren as the two of you drive off, the ride not even a full ten minutes, before he pulls into the little meadow. There’s a tiny little lake at the center, expansive enough that you can’t see the end and green grass surrounding the edges. There’s large willow trees, basking the entire place in a shade, as the two of you walk out to a bench and sit on it together.

“You like the store, Y/N?” he asks.

“I love the store. It’s-it’s why you can’t close it.” you respond, crossing your legs onto the bench and fidgeting with your hands in the space in between.

Michael takes a deep breath, before smiling to himself and looking out at the water.

“I spent my entire life in that store.”

You look out at the lake, at the little ripples keeling through the water as the tiniest wave hits the shore.

“My mother passed away when I was very young. I don’t remember much, but…she was very fond of nature. Flowers, greenery, lakes.”

You smile.

“But my father. He….he spent his entire life in that store with me. And…he was an unrelenting man. Disciplined, principled, habitual. I didn’t know much about him, besides his name. That he worked at the store, that keeping it running was important. That he didn’t say quite much, that sometimes he would when he was angry.” he states.

You swallow hard, immediately thinking of Eren and Zeke.

“I moved away, the second I could. I turned eighteen and I-I went running for the hills.”

“To?”

“College.”

“That’s nice. Surely something entirely different, after all that.” you softly add.

“I was curious. So curious that I wanted to know everything. Every major was one I wanted to do, every class left me with a thousand questions instead of answering them, every person I met was a person I wanted to unravel, to know, deep in their bones.”

“And did you? Meet someone like that?” you ask.

Michael turns to you and smiles.

“Always the romantic, weren’t you?”

“Who said anything about being a romantic?”

“Picking up bottles on New Year’s Day is quite a romantic sentiment to me.” he responds.

You roll your eyes and he laughs, as you beckon for him to continue.

“Her name was Evangeline. She had ivory hair, long eyelashes, and the tiniest bit of freckles on her skin. Two dimples, one on each side, that were hard not to notice whenever she smiled at me. Smelled like strawberries, never walked on the cracks in the sidewalk, dreaded getting gas to the point that her car would stall and run out.”

“Quite the lady.”

Michael smiles.

“The first love. Always comes with impossible odds. There’s a sweetness, almost a purity to it. That feeling that there is no one else in the universe like this. There’s fumbling, there’s pining, there’s awkward and ugly mistakes.”

“But you think it’s going to work. You want your love to be real.” you add.

“Precisely. There’s always a first time for everything, right?” he adds.

And from that somber tone in his voice, grating in his chest, you feel the tears spill down your eyes. Because you know what happens next.

“How?” you ask.

How did she leave him.

“Accidental drowning. It seems she….she tripped over the ledge on a boat. Must have hit her head or something because when we got her out, she was…was already long gone. Didn’t fight her way back up, just…sank down.”

You feel a hiccup escape your chest, the feeling so disgusting. That this shitty loss, that it permeates everywhere. That everyone feels it. That no one is safe from it and that truly, nothing stays.

“I returned to the store. Worked with my dad for some time. It was nice to see the monotony of those types of things. Ring up the items, place them in a bag. Give two unrelenting kids a free drink here and there. Close the shop up until the next day.”

You frown, your eyes burning, as he smiles at you. He taps on your forehead, on the wrinkles from your frown.

“I was so deep in it. That feeling. I dug myself into that hole. And I stayed there. That I had experienced everything that I had needed to in life, that things were perfect that way and that nothing else was going to compare.”

He takes a beat.

“I was holding onto the memories. And they were holding on to me.”

“But-”

“Holding onto memories is a good thing. But not when they drag you into the abyss. And that’s where I was - in that store, doing the same thing everyday. Ringing up the items, placing them in boxes and closing up for the night.” he responds.

You swallow hard.

“My father talked to me one day,” he states.

“He was still there?” you ask.

“He met my mother in that store. That she was reaching for the gum at the same time as him. That their fingers brushed across one anothers, that they split the pack of gum because there was only one left.”

“And?”

“That he spent his entire life in that store, because she thought she would come back.”

You wipe your snot on the back of your hand, looking up at him. And at the fact that he’s still smiling.

“It made sense then. Why he was so untouchable”

“Because he was waiting for something that wouldn’t ever come back?”

“Because he was stuck in that store. Sitting in his little corner that he haunts.”

You swallow hard.

“When you sit inside, you seem to forget that the sun does rise again. That it falls behind the skyline, but it comes back. The moon follows the same - disappearing and reappearing to be a light in the night. The ocean pulls away from you just to come crashing right back.” he states.

“But-”

“I don’t want to live in the hole anymore. I don’t want to haunt that corner, I don’t want to shy away from the water just because it is deep. It’s cold, it bites your skin, but you feel free in the water. The possibility is there, to let your self fallin the abyss, but you can also choose not to.”

You can feel the tears falling in full flesh, the pain so palpable when you understand.

The convenience store is the stagnant spot. And he has every intent to destroy it.

“You cannot live life when you are so untouchable, Y/N. Living your life requires you to be vulnerable,” he states.

You feel a hand on your shoulder and look up to find Eren standing at your side, the bike laying in the grass next to you. You scoot over on the bench, as the tears fall out even harder, the pain of it all so aching.

At Eren. Holding a slushie, with two straws in the hole. Sitting right at your side.

You take it in your hands, securing both of your hands around the cup, as you sip the drink. And that familiar mix - of the soda and the cherry covers your tastebuds - sending a chill down your spine.

Michael sighs, smacking against the skin of his thighs before he stands up. He turns to give the two of you a smile, a hand on both of your heads.

“You’re just going to leave?”

“I’ll let Eren tell you the rest. I’ve got a wife waiting for me at home.” he states, walking off with a content smile on his face.

You almost drop the entire drink over your legs, as you watch him walk off and turn to Eren. He’s got a soft smile on his face too, his head angled up as he watches the clouds move across the sky.

“He has a wife?” you ask.

Eren slides the smallest bit away from you and taps on the inscription on the bench.

For Zola. You let the light in.

You look up at him, confused.

“Living your life requires you to be vulnerable. What’s more vulnerable for him than loving again?” Eren responds.

You nod, turning your head back to the lake. To the waves, pulling away just to come crashing right back.

“I do care about the convenience store.” Eren states.

“Hm?”

“Earlier. You said you thought I didn’t care about it….I basically did the same thing you just did now a few weeks ago when I got back and found out.” Eren responds.

“Oh.”

Eren looks over at you.

“This was one of the hardest things I had to learn when I went to therapy, Y/N.”

“What?”

“That you have to hold space for your hurt, to let yourself feel it, but not let it bog you down either.” Eren responds.

You swallow hard, looking down at the slushie - the colors mixing together into one.

“The wound is the place where the light enters.” Eren states.

You swallow hard.

“Marco gave me a poetry book. And months after he died, I stumbled across it. And it was open right on that page.”

“He did love his poetry books, didn’t he?”

“Turns out Michael loves them too. He seems like a Marco type.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” you respond.

Eren stands up, brushing off his palms on his shirt, before he turns and extends his hand to you. You place your hand in his, warm and soft, before you hold it in the air. He makes a move to let go, but you clench harder.

“Eren.”

“Yes?”

Your mind is blank. You can’t think of what to say. Or more appropriately, what to say first. Because he sends your mind into a spiral, that he overwhelms any normal sense, any rationale.

Because you loved him. And he looks like the person you loved. Feels like him too.

It’s why you can’t shout at him. Why every rational thought goes out the door, why that unyielding feeling that he’s still the person you knew is there.

“I know, Y/N. It confuses me too. We'll figure it out." Eren states.

You and Eren pick the bike up and make your way back in silence. But the air is somewhat lighter.

When you walk into the townhouse, you make it your first point to find Levi. To the point where you march up to his room and pound hard on the door until he answers. All disheveled and the slightest bit of annoyance in his face.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“I’m here for the right reasons, Levi.” you state.

Levi’s eyes go wide, almost in curiosity, as he looks up at you and leans against the door. Gesturing for you to continue. You sigh, before reaching forward and wrapping your arms around him.

For trying to push you to this spot, days earlier. By asking you the question.

“I’m here to make amends. To move forward.” you state.

“And?”

“And that….that requires work on my part. With you and Mikasa. Falco and Eren and-”

“Eren?” Levi asks, raising his eyebrows.

You smile.

“Always his biggest hater, weren’t you?”

“Naturally.” Levi responds, closing the door behind him before linking your arms and walking down towards the kitchen.

"Yes, even Eren. I-"

You take a deep breath in.

"I'm done feeling sorry for myself. And I'm done being so...so far away. This is where I'm meant to be. And it's where I'll stay until we're done." you respond.

Levi smiles at you for the first time since you've returned. And you know you'll win him over.

When you walk down, you and Levi move around each other in silence. He’s fixing the food while you drag out the plates, until the music starts blaring. Splitting both of your eardrums.

You give Levi a motion to wait, as you pad into the living room to catch the sight responsible for the sound. Only to find your heart swelling, burning at it.

They’re all dancing. Almost every single one of them, standing on their feet, hands pressed together, and screaming.

The lyrics to your song.

Baby, we're the new romantics Come on, come along with me Heartbreak is the national anthem We sing it proudly We are too busy dancing To get knocked off our feet Baby, we're the new romantics The best people in life are free

And maybe, just possibly, it draws something in you. That you wrote this song, years prior, to sick it to them. Because you were going to prove everyone, who had doubted you, that you were above them.

That you'll always rise above.

Falco and Gabi have their arms linked together and are swinging in a circle, while Connie tries to horribly swing dance with Armin. Niccolo’s spinning Sasha in circles, holding her flesh against his chest, while Mikasa and Jean - who are most certainly drunk - are excitedly screaming the lyrics in each other’s faces. Pieck and Porco are doing a very weird rendition of the original dance from the music video, while Colt tries desperately to teach them how to do it the right way.

Your presence silences them all entirely, each of them stopping from their dancing to look up at you wide eyed. But you clear your throat and sing the lyrics of your song - for the first time in years.

Please take my hand and Please take me dancing, and Please leave me stranded It's so romantic (it's so romantic) (Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah)

You hold your hand out to Mikasa and Falco, who are all too happy to oblige. And scream the lyrics into each other's faces and dance on your feet until your soles hurt. You let Jean spin you and Mikasa in one arm, Connie’s screaming she’s back for a good five minutes, and you’re trying to let it happen.

To let the light enter the wound. To keep moving forward.

Eren and Levi pad into the room forty five minutes later, to find you all nestled on the floor, a tangle of limbs, and fast asleep.

“Levi.”

“Yes, Eren?”

“I finally figured it out. The scene we’re missing.” he states.

When you come to, you make it a point to destroy your convenience store.

You take the lighter and burn that golden piece of paper. And it’s a sweet satisfaction, to see the letters go up in flames.

Y/N L/N - Triple Threat Commendation.

Reduced to ashes.

next part linked here

an: the emo y/n cannot come to the phone rn!!! she is letting the light in!!! she is about to build a castle out of all of the bricks that were thrown at her!!

(and for those of you worried that y/n has not rocked eren's shit yet, trust. trust. this poor guy getting the scolding of his life but all in good time)

taglist:

@k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygff @cocomellxn @princess-ackermann @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar

pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3

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puffballthesheep · 6 months

Text

LOVE ME BACK — PIECK FINGER.

vamptober — slight edging ; find masterlist here

synopsis. In the hidden depths of Attack on Junior High, a captivating character named Peick appears, emanating a captivating vampire-like presence. The reader finds solace with her comrades Zeke, Reiner, Porco, and Annie, longing for a sense of belonging. Filled with seething rage, Peick sets out on a mission to unleash her fury upon the one who rejected her love.

length. 5.2k words (I attempted to make ts short)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, vampire peick! high school au (reader is a senior student), age gaps (100+ difference), vampire, manipulative peick, blood, gore, dead bodies, hurtful words, heavy make out session, slight edging, slight smut, names (love, dear, sweet & ect.)

Notes. this took so mfkn long to write bc first I can’t make anything short, nor can I function w/o it being long, but anywho whoever requested this, wassup dude, I been doing good n I hope u are too, but now we finna get into it but If I were you I'd lock my doors before reading this 🤸🏾

Eighteen-year-old (name) had experienced a great loss at a young age when her mother passed away, yet she had been blessed with an incredible relationship with her father who had raised her alone since then. Growing up in the peaceful suburbs, the two of them had grown incredibly close over the years, having an almost psychic connection - they would always know what the other was thinking and even feel when the other was near.

One morning, (name) came downstairs to have breakfast with her dad, and with a smile she said cheerfully, "Good morning, dad! Thanks for breakfast this morning." As she started to eat, her dad asked her how she had slept. She took a sip of her orange juice before answering, her eyes twinkling with joy as she said, "Pretty good actually, no nightmares or anything," and she shrugged as she set down her cup, before taking another bite of her food. "That's good to hear," her dad said warmly, his face beaming with love.

The two of them chatted as (name) enjoyed her breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and sausage, the aroma of the food filling the air of the quaint kitchen. Suddenly, her dad said he had a meeting later and he'd be home late, so not to wait up for him. (Name) nodded and looked up at the clock on the stove, realizing it was almost time for her to leave for school. She stood from the table, put up the leftover food into the refrigerator, and grabbed her backpack. "Bye Dad, I love you," she exclaimed, her voice filled with warmth. Her father smiled and waved as he was putting away his dishes and getting ready for work. "Love you too, have a good day at school," he said with a kind smile, his eyes twinkling with emotion and pride.

As the final bell reverberated through the halls of Attack on Titan Junior High, signaling the end of yet another mundane day, (name) found herself enveloped by her group of friends during passing period. "Well, well, if it isn't (name). It's been ages since I've laid eyes on you," Reiner, with a beaming smile, pulled her into a tight embrace, his arm naturally draping over her shoulders. Looking up at him, (name) playfully squirmed out of his grip, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Maybe because I get to class, unlike some of you," she retorted, her voice laced with a touch of sarcasm.

Not one to back down, Porco quickly stepped forward, his emotions getting the best of him. "But hey, at least some of us manage to make it to class and get our work done," Porco fired back, his words dripping with a ruthless edge. (Name) let out a soft sigh, fully aware of Porco's tendency to wear his heart on his sleeve. "Ah, Porco, always ready with a comeback," she replied, raising an eyebrow in a knowing manner. The mention of Porco's impending Saturday school attendance struck a chord, and (name) couldn't help but smirk as Reiner let out a hearty laugh, his firm grip on Porco preventing him from lunging at her in frustration, as he often did whenever she struck a nerve.

Leaning against the wall with a casual air, Zeke joined the conversation, his voice calm and composed. "You know, (name) has the best grades among all of us. I'm genuinely proud of you," he remarked, his admiration shining through. (Name) scoffed, readying herself to make her exit. "Eugh Zeke! Can't you stop sounding like someone's overprotective father? It's just plain creepy, especially when you already look like you're in your forties in the twelfth grade."

Just as (name) was about to leave, her path was unexpectedly halted by Bertolt, who gently placed a hand on her shoulder. Curiosity flickered in (name)'s eyes as she turned back to face him, her tone guarded. "Whatchu want?" she inquired, her voice tinged with caution. Bertolt handed her a stack of photographs, captured through his camera lens. Being the resident photographer, (name) possessed the unique skill of working in the darkroom, a talent unknown to her friends. "Could you possibly take these to the darkroom and meet me there after I find Annie?" Bertolt requested, his eyes filled with hope. Glancing at her phone to check the time, (name) nodded and then proceeded to walk away, leaving Bertolt to his search. "Sure thing. Enjoy your quest, but I can inform you that Annie hasn't graced us with her presence in days."

Reiner and Porco watched (name) depart, the latter still holding back a torrent of insults, assuming that she was too intimidated to confront them again. "She's always slipping away," Reiner murmured, a hint of sadness echoing in his voice. Porco, unable to contain his frustration, unleashed a string of profanities. Suddenly, the authoritative voice of Assistant Principal Levi cut through the air, causing the trio to turn their attention towards him. With a stern expression, Levi addressed Zeke directly. "Zeke, report to the principal's office immediately." Reiner and Porco exchanged glances, astounded by Zeke's audacity to smoke a cigarette in plain view of everyone. "What a delightful evening we're having, isn't it, Mr. Ackerman?" Zeke remarked, his words dripping with disdain. Zeke nonchalantly dropped the cigar and extinguished it with his foot, begrudgingly following Levi's lead. "Tch, shut it, you piece of shit," Levi retorted coldly, the tension between them palpable.

Unbeknownst to her, as she weaved through the bustling school hallways, a cacophony of noise enveloped her senses. The crowded corridors echoed with the hurried footsteps and animated conversations of students. Amidst the chaos, an eerie atmosphere hung in the air, gripping her with an unsettling feeling of being watched.

Glancing around, she found everyone engrossed in their own affairs, oblivious to the hidden observer. However, her gaze inexplicably landed upon Pieck, a former member of her friend group who had become a subject of her disdain. Pieck stood alone, seemingly detached from the bustling crowd, and she knew better than to trifle with her.

Pieck's appearance had changed subtly over time. Her once-tanned complexion and deep brown, sometimes gray eyes had transformed, giving way to a hint of red. It was a drastic alteration that intrigued her, though she concealed her fascination beneath a veil of hostility, conforming to the unkind treatment perpetuated by her friends.

As she passed by Pieck, their eyes met, and the chilling effect of Pieck's gaze sent shivers down her spine. Pieck always seemed to gravitate toward the shadowy corners, exuding an aura reminiscent of a vampire's allure. Yet, she dismissed such notions, knowing better than to believe in mythical tales.

Despite the bullying that she subjected Pieck to, she met her actions with an unwavering sweet smile, leaving her perplexed and questioning her own motives.

Determined to avoid further interaction, she rolled her eyes in defiance and briskly turned the corner, attributing her unease to the unsettling encounters of the day. With a sigh of relief, she pushed open the heavy door to the darkroom, immersing herself in its mysterious embrace.

As the door closed behind her with a resounding thud, the room enveloped her in darkness. Gradually, her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit space, revealing an enchanting sight. Pulsating red lights bathed the room, casting an ethereal glow that danced upon every surface. A chill, inexplicable yet tantalizing, crept down her spine, captivating her senses in an instant.

In the dimly lit dark room, she set the photos down on the table, soon feeling chills run down her spine. As she turned around, her heart nearly leaped out of her chest, and she let out a loud scream. There stood Pieck, a girl she just saw in the hallway, yet her vampire-like appearance commanded attention. Pieck's hinted red eyes, dark brown and almost black under the blood-red lights, seemed to possess an irresistible power, drawing her in.

Suddenly, she was snapped out of the trance by Pieck's voice. "Good afternoon, (name)..." Her soft, delicate, tired voice sent a wave of excitement through her. She couldn't help but admire Pieck's beautiful, disheveled hair, lazy eyes that complemented her Greek nose, and full lips that begged to be kissed. Despite the pressure to dislike Pieck, driven by the disapproval of friends, she secretly felt an unexplainable attraction towards her.

Pieck's gaze seemed to search for something deep within her, as if she hadn't entered the dark room without making a sound. She finally gathered the courage to speak. "Pieck... how did you get in here so quietly?" She began to walk past Pieck, her backpack hanging from her right shoulder.

Pieck watched her intently, carefully observing every movement. Her cold, icy hands sent a shiver down her spine, further fueling her 'dislike' towards her. "Uh, can I help you?" She prepared to break free from Pieck's grip, but suddenly found herself pushed against the wall, with Pieck's finger pointing directly at her, holding her wrists above her head.

As she stared into Pieck's eyes, the room's atmosphere turned chillingly cold and the light of the red lights reflecting off Pieck's eyes. Trembling under her touch, she was astonished by this sudden change in Pieck's demeanor, as she was usually gentle and polite. It infuriated her to admit her feelings for Pieck, especially after speaking negatively about her. Unbeknownst to her, Pieck was more than just a human; she possessed an uncanny ability to read people.

Despite her attempts to break free, Pieck's grip remained unyielding. Pieck's small frame overpowering her seemed inexplicable, reinforcing the perception that she was peculiar. "Let me go!" Even with a tight grip, Pieck's movements were slow and delicate, while her eyes seemed to hypnotize her.

Pieck spoke softly once again, her voice carrying a hint of sadness. "How can I, when you know just how much I love you, (name). Why do you ignore me?" Her free hand traveled from her shirt to her hair, twirling a lock around her finger. Pieck listened to her heartbeat, every move she made on her accompanied by the red dim light that accentuated her every motion, revealing a glimpse of her razor-sharp fangs.

Pieck's words quickened her heartbeat, as they shared the same feelings but couldn't express them. "Pieck, why are you doing this...?" She asked, struggling to free her hands from Pieck's grip. "Listen to me, (name). Tell me how you truly feel... no more lies."

Pieck knew there was something about her that she held dear, but she refused to grant her desires. After numerous attempts to escape, she kneed Pieck in the stomach and forcefully pushed her away. The impact was hard enough to cause Pieck to spit up blood, and she slowly lifted herself up with the support of the file cabinet next to her.

Turning back, she picked up her backpack and uttered hurtful words, "Wanna know how I really feel about you? Nothing but a disgusting disgrace. Loving me? Oh please, move on because who would ever love you?" Pieck's heart sank upon hearing her cruel words, reaching out her hand, ready to say something. "Don't leave me alone, (name)..." Her voice filled with sorrow, as she had nobody left in her life, with her mother gone and her father gone as well.

She opened the door to the dark room, preparing to step into the brightly lit hallway, making Pieck flinch. But before leaving, she turned back, saying, "You know... no wonder why people despise you. I'm certain you were the catalyst behind your father's tragic demise... you're nothing more than a repugnant disgrace and an insufferable burden. It's no surprise you find yourself utterly alone." She closed the door behind, leaving Pieck in there alone.

Pieck took her hand out of reach and wiped the blood from her mouth, knowing (name) had made a big mistake. This was the last chance Pieck gave her.

Just like that, she left Pieck in the dark, red room, unaware of how far Pieck would go to hear the words she desired. As she turned to her left, she saw Bertolt standing before her, wearing a puzzled expression. "What happened?"

At the eerie hour of 6:30 in the evening, (name) returned home from school, a lingering sense of unease enveloping her. The house, usually filled with the comforting presence of her father, was now shrouded in an unsettling silence.

With a heavy heart and a hint of trepidation, (name) settled herself at the kitchen table, desperately attempting to immerse herself in her homework. But then, out of nowhere, a searing pain pierced her delicate neck, causing her to wince in agony. The pain subsided momentarily, leaving her bewildered and unnerved. Determined to dismiss this inexplicable occurrence, she carried on with her work.

However, the pain returned with a vengeance, intensifying with each passing moment. "Ow! The fuck is this pain coming from?" she cried out, seeking solace in the freezer's icy grasp. Placing an ice pack on her throbbing neck, the pain gradually dissipated. Puzzled yet resolute, she pondered the enigma that had befallen her.

As the clock mercilessly ticked towards 8 o'clock, her father's absence weighed heavily on her mind. Homework completed, she ventured into the living room, hoping to wait a little longer for her father's return.

Engulfed by the flickering light of the television, hunger began to gnaw at her insides. With a resigned sigh, she reached for her phone, intending to order pizza from a nearby establishment.

"Hello, I would like to place an order," she spoke into the phone, her voice trembling ever so slightly. After conveying her desires, she set the phone aside, letting the monotony of the television lull her into a state of drowsiness. Unbeknownst to her, sleep gradually entwined its insidious tendrils around her weary frame, veiling her consciousness in a nocturnal embrace.

Suddenly, she was transported back to memories of her childhood, back in the house where her late mother once resided. Sitting at the kitchen table, she cast her gaze towards the stove, where an ethereal figure stood with its back turned, preparing a morning feast. Approaching the table, the figure placed a plate of eggs before her, whispering a chilling warning into her ear: "Don't open the door."

Abruptly, her surroundings shifted once more, this time to the side of a bustling highway. Amidst the cacophony of vehicles, a distant figure beckoned, its voice rendered incoherent by the clamor. Straining her senses, (name) discerned her father's voice, urgently imploring her: "Don't open the door!"

Startled, she jolted awake, her mind racing to comprehend her surroundings. The couch, her only companion in the dimly lit room, offered no solace. "what a weird dream. It felt so real," she mused aloud, its vividness leaving an indelible mark upon her psyche. Yet, her respite was short-lived, as the doorbell abruptly shattered the silence.

*Ding dong.*

Her body, guided by a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, propelled her towards the door. However, as she passed the window, she recoiled in terror. Darkness had descended upon the world outside, a foreboding sign that time had slipped away unnoticed. Doubt plaguing her thoughts, she retrieved her phone, only to discover that the clock now displayed the witching hour: 3 AM. Her heart pounding, she turned back to face the enigmatic intruder lurking beyond the threshold.

"Dad! Are you home?" she called out, her voice trembling with a mixture of desperation and fear. But the doorbell persisted, its relentless chimes growing more frenzied with each passing second.

*Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong.*

It struck her then - something was dreadfully amiss. A chill crept up her spine as the memory of her dream resurfaced, her father's caution echoing in her mind.

"Don't open the door!"

With trembling hands, she refrained from unlocking the door, instead choosing to seek confirmation from her father through the peephole. There he stood, unflinching, his eyes fixated on her with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. This inexplicable stillness, coupled with the incessant ringing of the doorbell, struck terror into her very core.

*Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong.*

"Dad! Is someone with you? answer me! I refuse to open the door until you respond!" she pleaded, her voice teetering on the edge of hysteria.

*Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong.*

Overwhelmed by panic, (name) collapsed, as she pressed herself against the door, desperately avoiding any action that would invite further dread. She couldn't explain it, but an overwhelming sense of terror gripped her, eventually lulling her into an exhausted slumber beside the door, the relentless toll of the doorbell serving as a haunting lullaby.

As the morning sun bathed the world in its gentle glow, (name) stirred from her restless sleep. Recollections of the previous night flooded her mind, urging her to action. She cautiously rose to her feet, distancing herself from the door that had become a harbinger of nightmares. Glancing out the window, the sight of daylight offered a modicum of solace.

Summoning her waning courage, she approached the door once more, swallowing the fear that threatened to consume her. Peering through the peephole, she met her father's gaze once again. she opened the door and only this time something was horribly wrong. Her father's severed head, grotesquely suspended from a hook, greeted her horrified gaze. The weight of despair settled in her stomach, threatening to engulf her entirely. Clutching her abdomen, she stared at the blood dripping onto the doorstep, uttering a feeble question into the abyss.

"W-who could have done this?"

Her eyes fell upon a note lying on the ground, soaked in crimson. Trembling, she picked it up and read its chilling message:

"Now, who's all alone now?"

The note slipped from her trembling grasp, and in that moment, the door slammed shut with an otherworldly force. Just as she turned to face the darkness that encroached upon her, (name) was violently yanked backward, her screams drowned by the suffocating embrace of the abyss.

(name) awoke to find herself trapped in an unknown and eerie place. The stench of blood assaulted her senses, causing her to gag as she cautiously surveyed her surroundings. The walls were cold and made of rough stone, barely allowing any light to penetrate the darkness. Above her, a single flickering light bulb hung from the ceiling, casting sinister shadows that danced along the walls.

Suddenly, a chilling sight caught her eye. A table stood in the corner, and blood dripped steadily from its surface, pooling on the floor below. As her eyes adjusted further, the true horror came into focus. A headless body lay upon the table, its life force gruesomely drained by some unseen force. (name)'s heart sank as she recognized the victim - her own father - his lifeless form bearing cruel bite marks.

Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze shifted to another figure, their body still bleeding profusely, crimson liquid flowing perilously close to where she was bound. With growing dread, she followed the trail of blood, her eyes widening in terror as the truth unraveled before her. The wounded person, dressed in a gray hoodie and jeans, was none other than Annie, her friend. Weak and trembling, Annie turned towards (name) with pleading eyes, her blonde hair matted with blood.

"(name)...help...me..." Annie's plea was cut short as death claimed her, right before (name)'s horrified gaze. A gut-wrenching scream tore from (name)'s lips, echoing through the blood-soaked chamber.

The single light bulb overhead flickered ominously, casting erratic shadows that danced upon the walls, heightening the sense of impending doom. (name) desperately struggled against her restraints, feeling the cold, rusty chains digging into her flesh. She strained to stand, but the unforgiving grip of the chains held her captive, an agonizing reminder of her helplessness.

As she cast her gaze towards the middle of the stone door, footsteps grew louder, each one a chilling symphony of dread. The light bulb's flickering intensified with each approaching step, accentuating the darkness that enveloped her soul. The door creaked open slowly, revealing the figure responsible for her torment.

A shiver ran down (name)'s spine as Pieck entered the room, her disarming smile mirroring the gentle facade she had worn the day before. Clutched in her arms was (name)'s father's severed head, blood still dripping from her mouth. The sickening truth became undeniable – Pieck was a manipulative and sinister vampire, masquerading as a sweet and innocent creature.

"Peick!! You did this, didn't you? Why would you..." (name) choked on her words, her voice trembling with fear and disbelief. Pieck's crimson gaze bore into (name), her expression devoid of remorse as she callously dropped the decapitated head to the cold, blood-stained floor, splattering the crimson liquid onto (name)'s tear-streaked face.

(name)'s heart pounded in a terrifying mix of fear and sorrow, overwhelmed by the loss of her father and the horrifying uncertainty of her own fate. Pieck moved closer, her graceful steps belying the monstrous creature she truly was. She knelt before (name), placing a hand on her trembling thigh, while her other hand wiped away the tears that stained (name)'s cheeks.

"(name)...don't cry. You brought this upon yourself," Pieck whispered, her voice both soothing and haunting. She tilted her head, her bloodstained lips curling into a sinister smile, revealing her sharp, elongated fangs. (name) recoiled at the sight, transfixed by the blood that stained Pieck's teeth, her long tongue leisurely licking away the crimson droplets.

Terror consumed (name) as she finally found her voice, tremblingly uttering, "You aren't human, are you?" The realization of the monstrous truth sank in, sending shivers down her spine.

Without breaking eye contact, Pieck continued to explore (name)'s body, her touch moving from the thigh, to the side of her stomach, and finally to her breast. Her thumb caressed the delicate flesh, while her other fingers sought the pounding heartbeat beneath (name)'s chest.

"I'm surprised you didn't realize it sooner, (name)," Pieck whispered, a sadistic pleasure lacing her words. As (name)'s heartbeat raced with increasing panic, she struggled to breathe, her gasps for air growing more desperate. Drawing nearer, Pieck's voice slithered into (name)'s ear, sending a bone-chilling shiver down her spine. The words dripped from her lips like venom, a sinister promise hanging in the air.

"Breathe, my dear. I won't harm you... yet."

Pieck's presence alone was enough to unleash a torrent of fear within (name). As she leaned back, a sickening curiosity mingled with her terror, unable to resist the allure of Pieck's touch, even in the face of impending doom. But reality crashed down upon her when she looked down at the ground, her eyes fixating on her father's severed head. In a desperate attempt to shield herself from the grotesque scene, she clamped her eyes shut, refusing to witness the horrors before her.

Suddenly, an unnatural weight settled upon her lap. Her gaze shifted downward, revealing Pieck perched upon her, her icy hands caressing (name)'s cheeks. She compelled (name) to meet her gaze once again, their lips tantalizingly close. However, Pieck abruptly withdrew, her movements betraying a calculated cunning. With a slight tilt of her head, she fixated her piercing gaze upon (name) and silence descended like a suffocating fog.

"Why did you say those hurtful things to me, (name)..."

(name) froze, the memories of the cruel words she had hurled at Pieck resurfacing. In that dire moment, she struggled to conjure any justification, realizing that her desperate attempts to fit in had only birthed destruction. "I... I didn't mean it," (name) stammered, devoid of any coherent explanation. "All I wanted was to hear you say that you love me..."

Peick's soft plea echoed through (name)'s ears, weaving a spell that threatened to ensnare her mind. Her eyes, hypnotic in their intensity, seemed to coax (name) into surrendering to her will. Doubt crept into (name)'s thoughts as she began to forget the atrocities committed against her father and Annie. Deep down, she started to believe that she was to blame for their suffering. "No... it's all my fault... I caused my father's death..." (name) whispered to herself, her gaze falling into her lap.

Tears welled in her eyes as (name) succumbed to the hypnotic allure of Pieck's gaze and voice. "I love you too, Pieck... I couldn't tell you because..."

A wicked grin twisted across Pieck's face, her eyes narrowing with a malevolent glint. She relished in her manipulative power, reveling in the opportunity to make (name) forget her sins. "I always knew you loved me, (name), my sweet. The words I've longed to hear... It didn't have to come to this, but you drove me to it, my dear..."

Pieck's grip tightened on (name)'s bound hand, refusing to release her hold. Finally, (name) snapped out of the bewitching trance, realizing the depths of Pieck's depravity. "No, Pieck! What you've done cannot be undone! Yes, I loved you, but how could I ever love you now?! What you've done is unforgivable!" (name) cried out, her eyes drawn to the lifeless bodies of Annie and her father, a grim reminder of the carnage wrought by Pieck's insidious actions.

In the face of (name)'s defiance, Pieck fixated her gaze upon her, an insidious silence punctuating her ominous presence. With a sly sigh, she sharpened her nails, a wicked transformation taking hold. "(name)..."

Pieck exhaled, refusing to relinquish her grip on (name)'s conscience. "I never wished for it to come to this, but you continuously rejected my attempts to connect with you... I tried to do it the right way, but you denied me at every turn... I only wanted to know why..."

(name) cast her gaze downward once more, her heart heavy with guilt. She recognized her own fault in pushing Pieck away, knowing all too well the countless times Pieck had tried to bridge the divide. Compassion stirred within (name) as she contemplated what it must be like to stand in Pieck's shoes. "I know... and I'm sorry! I shouldn't have pushed you away or uttered a word about your father... But why did Annie have to suffer too?"

Pieck's smile contorted into an eerie gentleness as she gazed upon her lifeless victim, Annie. "Poor, poor Annie," she cooed, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "She'll be back soon, my heart...but for now, just focus on me." The words of protest began to form on (name)'s lips, but a sinister calm washed over her, drowning out any resistance. Pieck was up to her dark deeds once again.

As (name) shifted uncomfortably, a chilling sensation spread across her body. It was then that she realized she was lying in a pool of her own blood, her life essence draining away. Panic gripped her as she struggled to comprehend the horrifying reality unfolding before her. "When did..." (name) managed to stammer, but Pieck interrupted with a gleeful grin, relishing in the terror she had instilled.

Unbeknownst to (name), Pieck had viciously slit her back while she was caught in a fit of righteous anger, berating Pieck for her unforgivable actions. The cunning vampire ensured that (name) remained fixated on her, her mesmerizing voice and piercing eyes numbing any sensation of pain. It was all part of Pieck's twisted plan to manipulate (name) into becoming her companion for eternity.

Pieck forcefully turned (name)'s face towards her own, their eyes locked in a macabre dance. "Everything's fine, (name)," Pieck hissed, her voice laced with a sickening sweetness. "(Name), I still want to be with you. I'll protect you. I just want you to be with me forever..." Dizziness overwhelmed (name), her mind clouded and her willpower crumbling. A faint smile crept across her face as she succumbed to Pieck's wicked charm. "I'm sorry for everything I've done...I love you too, but I was wrong..." (name) whispered, their voice barely a breath. Pieck hushed (name) with a tender gesture, then pressed her lips against (name)'s, a kiss filled with twisted passion.

Pieck's hands slithered from (name)'s cheeks down to her shoulders, intensifying the heated kiss. Her tongue hungrily sought entry, licking at (name)'s bottom lip, leaving a taste of the blood she had recently fed on. Their tongues clashed in a battle for dominance, fueling Pieck's insatiable bloodlust. Her nails dug deep into (name)'s shoulder, drawing fresh blood that sent shivers down Pieck's spine, igniting a primal desire within her. The once gentle vampire grew more aggressive, her hunger escalating.

Within the depths of their twisted embrace, (name)'s faint moans echoed, a symphony of pleasure and pain. (name) weakly placed their hands on Pieck's sides, attempting to push her away. Pieck's concern was thinly veiled as she gazed down at (name), a hunger in her eyes that matched the thirst coursing through her veins. "Pieck...I feel so weak," (name) managed to utter, struggling to catch their breath. "You're doing so well, my sweet," Pieck murmured, her voice laced with sadistic satisfaction. "Just hold on..."

With a renewed hunger burning within her, Pieck reclaimed (name)'s lips, savoring every moment of their macabre union. The overwhelming scent of (name)'s blood intoxicated her, driving her to taste every inch of their being. Kissing down (name)'s jawline, she gradually made her way to the vulnerable expanse of (name)'s neck.

(name) willingly offered up their neck, granting Pieck unrestricted access. Even as their life force slipped away, (name) squirmed beneath Pieck, feeling a perverse wetness between their legs. Pieck seized upon this opportunity, grinding against (name) with a primal hunger, their moans intensifying as the friction between their thighs ignited a twisted pleasure. While Pieck marked (name)'s neck with countless hickeys, her hand returned to caress (name)'s cheek, her thumb pressing gently against their skin. As Pieck's fangs grazed (name)'s neck, a surge of pain mingled with a familiar sensation, reminiscent of the mundane discomfort of doing homework at a table.

Deep down, (name) knew this was wrong, but they were ensnared in Pieck's web of manipulation, unable to break free. As Pieck sank her razor-sharp fangs into (name)'s neck, the pain was numbed, replaced by a tingling sensation that mirrored the bite of a pen on paper. (name) turned their head slightly, groaning weakly as their strength waned, their eyes fixated on Annie's lifeless body. "We have... to save Annie..." they whispered, their voice fading.

Pieck withdrew, her fangs dripping with the crimson elixir of her beloved's life force. Her wild, disheveled curls framed her bloodstained face as she wiped her lips, gazing down at (name), teetering on the precipice of death. A wicked grin spread across her visage as she kissed (name)'s forehead. "Very soon, my love," she whispered, her voice echoing with sinister delight. "Soon, you will be just like me... and we can live together forever."

(name) mustered the last remnants of their fading energy to gaze at Pieck, a feeble smile gracing her lips. Unbeknownst to (name), a new set of fangs had sprouted in her mouth during this unholy transformation. Pieck watched with rapt attention as (name) underwent their metamorphosis, relishing in the macabre beauty of her creation.

y’all the theme of this ‘lil’ one shot is basically to be yourself, don't try and play who you're not to fit in with the crowd cs y’all saw what happened to ol reader girl, but anywho y’all prepare yo self for a hange x fem! reader x yelena vamp one shot cs das what’s comin next 😭

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